


Ebba's Choices

by hellojustri



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Gen, Grocery Store, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellojustri/pseuds/hellojustri
Summary: A young grocery store manager, Ebba Dagdag, visits a fortune-teller because, well, what the hell. She hears the fortune but it's the fortune-teller and their apparent but mysterious mutual friend who capture her curiosity. Her usual routine is interrupted as she collects clues to discover the identity of the mutual friend.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Mordred (Merlin), Merlin & Original Female Character
Kudos: 1





	Ebba's Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ebba's friends try to convince her to visit a fortune teller.

Ebba's second-floor office overlooked the parking lot. Not a spectacular view though watching civil disputes unfurl was delightful.  She spent a lot of time narrating the lives of her customers as they walked in and out of her store; assigning them names that were definitely not theirs. Most men were John. Most women were Joan. She did like to throw in an occasional Memphis or Bellamy to spice things up.  For as long as Ebba's been grocery store manager, she's witnessed eighty-six almost-car accidents and thirty-one actual-car accidents.  She tries her best not to laugh at Memphis' poor driving but,  honestly, when the car accident's not yours, it is a little funny.

She can telepathically warn them not to back up or slow down all she wants. It's not her fault they don't listen.

Though, even the local government realized there was a problem. That many accidents and almost-accidents in one parking lot isn't good. The mayor asked to meet with Ebba.  The mayor informed her that they've hired a civil engineer consultant, Memphis Phang, who will be in charge of redesigning the parking lot. The mayor said, "In a couple of days, Mr. Phang will visit. He will introduce himself, inspect the grounds-. Shouldn't take more than an hour. The town sheriff will also stop by.  He's wanted to change the layout of the parking lot for months and with the weather turning warm, it's the perfect time to start. We'll make sure it won't interfere with your sales and customers. Your customers are our residents."

Ebba held her breathe to keep from laughing at the name Memphis. At least she wouldn't have to watch Memphis' poor driving anymore. (If his middle name's Bellamy, she might have to laugh in his face. Memphis Bellamy Phang. Like she's one to talk. Her full name's Ebba Joy Maria Santos Triunfo Dagdag.)

A couple of days later Mr. Phang, the civil engineer consultant, showed up and asked to meet with Miss. Dagdag. They met in her office. She had had no idea what to expect but she certainly wasn't expecting someone attractive. She blushed, blaming it on the broken air conditioner. Mr. Phang sat in one of the old leather chairs, talking her through the process.  Ebba forced herself to take notes so that she wouldn't stare listlessly at his face though his eyes, wide-set and deep, were too engaging. Had she ever met an Asian with light brown eyes? Nearly all her Asian friends have dark brown eyes, nearly black.

She seemed to ask questions that were coherent but she could remember neither her questions nor his answers, not without looking at her notes. After talking for ten minutes, he passed her his card. It read, Memphis Phang, Bellamy, Inc. Civil and Environmental Engineering Consultants Of Ealdor. Did she deserve a laugh yet? He continued, "I shouldn't take more than an hour surveying the land. Once I've done that, I will be back a few more times sometimes with the mayor, sometimes with the sheriff. Sometimes both," he chuckled. "Thank you for your time."

"Of course! No, of course," Ebba said, "Yeah, the customers have been complaining a lot about that parking lot. It's a weird shape. Whoever designed it before did not do a good job."

Memphis laughed. "No, no they did not. Oh, and thank you for taking notes. I noticed that." He shook her hand a little firmer than before. "Most people  just  zone out."

Ebba scoffed in disbelief, her other hand to her chest.  "As if there were something else more interesting and important than my customers' safety ."

He smiled. "Right, uh, so, I gave you my business card if you need anything. I've written my direct line on it should you have any questions or, you know, yeah."

"Yeah. Um, I'll walk you out."

Ebba had off the next day and the day after that she had a closing shift.  Before leaving, she spoke to each of the overnight staff in their native languages asking after their families and friends. On her way out, she realized she missed one of them, a tall, elderly gentleman with long white hair.  She approached him slowly, assuming he might have on earphones, and when she got his attention she introduced herself. "Hi, I'm Ebba, the store manager. You must be the new hire, the one Stephanie hired?"

"Stephanie," said the man, his white beard moved as he said the name; it moved like a cartoon Ebba used to watch as a kid. It moved comically to signify talking as if the beard were the mouth. "Stephanie," he repeated thoughtfully.

"You know, Stephanie. One of my assistant store managers. She interviewed you. Tall girl. Latina. Nails always on point."

"Stephanie," the man nodded quickly, his beard bouncing, though Ebba wasn't sure he really remembered Stephanie. "And you are the store manager. Stephanie's boss."

"Yes, hi. I'm Ebba," she reached out her hand. "And, I'm sorry, but  I don't believe  I remember  correctly  but you're Merlin, Merlin Penn, yes?"

"Yes." He accepted her hand but only gave it a quick shake, returning his grip to the mop. " Just  one Merlin will do."

She smiled. "Well, Merlin, I'm glad to have you on our team! Thank you so much for joining us. If there's ever anything you need to talk about please don't hesitate to talk to me, or Stephanie and Rebecca. Our offices are on the second floor," she gestured up over his head. He looked up to the second floor.  The grocery store offices were built toward the front over the in-store bank and customer service desk. The hallway connecting each of the offices overlooked the entire main shopping floor. A sign at the stairs leading to the second-floor office rea, _Personnel Only_. "Break room's up there, too," Merlin said. "I'm personnel."

"Yes, yes you and yes, you're right. The break room is up there but we have two. The second-floor break room is smaller but it does have a microwave and toaster. Most of our employees use the main floor break room in the back with receiving."

Merlin bowed his head. "Thank you, Miss. Ebba. I'll be sure to take advantage of both."

She looked around the empty store. "Well, in your case, you could take a break anywhere. And please, just Ebba will do. Anyway, have a good night, Merlin. Thank you again."

"Miss. Ebba," he called as she walked away toward the exit. "Miss. Ebba, be careful driving. It gets rather dark in Camelot at night."

She glanced out the window of the in-store bank. It was rather dark already. "I will, thank you, Merlin. Have a good night!"

* * *

Though Ebba didn't have to be at work until 11.00, she got out of bed promptly at 8.30. She woke up at 6.30 but had stayed in bed, rolling over the day's tasks and plans.  She had e-mailed the regional office about the potential upcoming changes to the store parking lot and one of her bosses wanted to schedule a visit.  She has to prepare with the in-store designer for a new season of advertisements and promotions. The in-house HR, Jaliyah, needs her to sign a few more documents.  She needs to finish writing reviews on the upgrades of their internal processors and submit a formal complaint about their IT guy. He doesn't do anything helpful. He never communicates and he is never in-store when he's scheduled to be.

At 8.30, Ebba slid out of bed and made herself a cup of tea, did some things in-between and at 10.25, she started her drive to work.  Her townhouse is just north of the Darkling Woods, which, now that she thought about it, she's not hiked there since her initial transfer.  She moved here two years ago after accepting the promotion as store manager to open the newest location in Camelot, which she hadn't heard of before this but she knew of Somerset which was only twenty minutes away. She pulled into the parking lot, parked, clocked in, and made her way to her office. Shedropped her messenger bag onto her desk when Stephanie walked in as if on cue.

Stephanie plopped down into one of the leather chairs, closing her eyes and sighing.

"Today that bad?" Ebba asked.

Stephanie whipped her hair off her shoulders and shook her head. "Oh, no, I  just  wanna ask you something." She wiggled her perfect eyebrows; today her eye shadow a glittery bronze.

Ebba rolled her eyes, lined and sharp. The last time Stephanie asked her something was to go speed dating. That had not ended well.  Thankfully, it was only boring and boring's better than dangerous when it comes to dating.  But she'd rather be bored on her comfortable couch than bored after paying a £25 entrance fee to restaurant where she can't eat any of the food. She opened her messenger bag and unloaded it as Stephanie began, "I was  just  texting Becca about it. I went to her fortune-teller last night. Changed. My. Life. He told me everything I need to know."

"About that thing you were talking about the other day?"

"Yes! That thing! The thing I only told you about! The guy knew everything about it."

Ebba chuckled. "I feel like that's the fortune teller's job. 'To know everything.'"

Stephanie sat up in her seat, gripping her knees. "So you think fortune-tellers are real, too?"

"I didn't-."

"I knew it! He told me to bring you!"

"The fortune-teller told you to bring me, Ebba Dagdag?"

Stephanie shivered. "He said your name.  Honestly, at first, I thought he was just mumbling but then he said it! He said your name! You have to come with me tonight, please?"

Ebba sat in her seat and flipped open her laptop. "Steph, you know I don't like doing anything after a mid-shift."

"But he told me to bring you! He has something to tell you." Stephanie's legs shook, shaking Ebba's desk. "He said he has something to tell you. I asked him if he could tell me and I'd pass it along and he said nope. He said you need to hear it from him  directly ."

"Let me think about it. I'll get back to you. I gotta walk the floor."  She put on her apron and made her usual rounds, greeting each team manager, asking if there was anything she could do to help. A few frequent shoppers stopped her with fresh complaints they felt she needed to hear.  For example, did she know that Susan- you know, the florist in the floral department- was packing the flowers too tightly in the buckets?  That's not good for the flowers and they'd know because they're award-winning gardeners: five years-in-a-row best rose bushes, that's right!

Ebba  graciously  told them she'd update Susan on how to fill the flower buckets, of course. (She wouldn't.)  She made her way to Jaliyah's office to sign some documents, then met with the in-store designer to review the incoming advertisements and promotions, and then scheduled an in-store visit with one of her bosses from the regional office. Her mid-shift happened just as she planned it would. She doesn't need a fortune-teller to predict what's already predictable.

Around 16.30, Stephanie knocked on the office door. She said, "Hey, I'm about to clock out." She gnawed on her lip. "So."

Ebba looked up from her laptop; she's in the middle of answering an e-mail. "So," she replied.

"Have you given it any more thought?"

Jaliyah passed by and asked, "Has Ebba given what anymore thought?" She rested her head on the door frame. "Oh! Oh, you told her about your visit to that fortune-teller."

"My visit to the fortune-teller!"

Jaliyah brushed a braid out of her face. "You were just telling me about this. Ebs, did Steph mention that he knew your name exactly! It's so weird that he knew exactly Ebba's name. Her name's so specific. Ebs, you should go. Even if it's fake, what've you got to lose?"

Ebba looked up at them both and said, "Can I please prepare for my staff meeting tomorrow?"

Jaliyah and Stephanie exchanged looks. "It's okay," Jaliyah assured Stephanie. "I'm here for another hour. I can convince her. Oh! Becca's just come in, too! I don't know, she said she had a package to pick up. I know it's her day off but she said it was a very important package. I'll go get her."

If Ebba didn't have an open-door policy she'd kick them out.  Instead, she finished answering the e-mail and then prepared her notes for tomorrow's staff meeting.  A few minutes later, Jaliyah came back with Rebecca, Stephanie straggling behind, distractedly texting on her phone. Rebecca took the 'Lunch break' sign from the back of the office door and stuck it to its front before shutting it. Rebecca started with her opening arguments. "Ebs, I can promise you, this won't be at all like the speed dating fiasco. It'll be worth it. I also visited the fortune-teller. His name's Dred."

"Dred."

"Yeah! Dred. He comes highly recommended. I've visited him a bunch of times. He's really accurate. He answered all my questions and told me-."

Ebba finished, "Everything you needed to know.' Yes, so I've heard."

The three of them stood on the other side of her desk, two with their arms crossed and the third with her hands at her hips. They hadn't been this insistent last time, though last time, they had tricked her into doing it. This time they decided to rise above trickery.  Something about this Dred person must be sincere to have convinced them all that his predictions are worth proselytizing. Ebba looked out her office window into the parking lot. It was fairly empty considering they were in the middle of the dinner rush.

Yes, her initial reaction to visiting a fortune-teller was, well, disgust, but if conceding meant they'd get off her back, she'd concede. She was about to vocalize her concession when a knock came to the door. It was Susan from floral. "We were paging you and tried calling you," she said after Ebba opened the door. "Um, Mr. Phang is here. He said he knows he doesn't have an appointment with you but-. Should I send him up? Okay, I'll go get him."

Ebba stood frozen at the door, her hand gripping the frame.

Jaliyah noticed first, "Oh god, she's blushing! Girls, Ebs is blushing! Ebs, who's Mr. Phang?"

Rebecca grinned, "Dred's  really  good with romantic predictions."

Stephanie laughed, clapping her hands, "This is great! This is the perfect reason to visit our fortune-teller! Come on, you can't tell me you're not the least bit curious about-. AH, MR. PHANG. That was fast. Mr. Phang, sorry, we're just finishing up a meeting with Ebba. Give us a moment." Stephanie shut the door leaving Memphis out in the hall. She turned to Ebba. "Ebba, come on.  Just once! Dred asked me to bring you! I would never have brought it up if he didn't bring you up! Come on. If after tonight it's the bullshit you think it is, we won't ever bring it up again." They all pouted and made puppies of their eyes.

"I'll go-." She was going to tell them to get out of her office too but had instead to tell them to shush. They squealed and jumped for joy, having composed themselves as soon as they opened the door. As Memphis walked in, the three of them gave big thumbs-up mouthing _he's cute_ and _go get 'im_ to a mortified Ebba. "Mr. Phang, I wasn't expecting to see you today. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was with another client nearby and- and," he rubbed the back of his neck. "And I-. I need you to sign- some- papers." He shuffled through his briefcase for whatever-papers-she-needs-to-sign. Without glancing at it, he passed it to her and sat down, looking at her expectantly. "There are tabs indicating where you should sign."

Ebba glanced at the cover page. "This is a 'Joint Venture Agreement for Professional Services'," she read aloud, "for Bellamy & Sons and Somerset CEC. I don't think this is the one." She flipped to the back pages. "And these are already signed."

Memphis melted into the seat, his shoulders up to his ears in an effort to conceal his embarrassment. He sighed. "I don't know why I thought that would work." He covered his face with his hands. "I just wanted to stop by and say 'hi' but I couldn't find you on the floor and then one of your employees recognized me, I guess, and assumed I had a meeting with you and now I'm here." He laughed nervously. "I'm gonna go now," he took the contract from Ebba. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"Mr. Phang-."

"Please, call me Memphis."

"Memphis, um, no, you didn't disturb me."

His nerves loosened. He tucked the contract back into his suitcase and headed out the door but not without Ebba asking him out to coffee. He agreed and asked for her number when she asked about his driving skills. "I'm sorry? How's my driving?" He made a face. "I think I'm a good driver. Why?"

* * *

At 19.00, Stephanie texted Ebba, _I'll meet you at Dred's round 8 here's the address._ Ebba hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was a little curious. She'd never been to a fortune-teller, especially not one who specifically asked for her. Should that not have been a red flag? If any other stranger had asked for her specifically  by name she would've run in the other direction.  She watched a documentary once about magic and deception and vaguely remembered how fortune-tellers preying on the grieving and desperate. Was she either of those?

She doesn't have any deceased with whom to share more last words.  She's not chasing after a bigger, better life; she's not envious of anyone; although it would be nice to visit her family in the Philippines more often. For the most part, she's pretty satisfied with what she has. She even has a date for this Friday! Things are all right, all things considered.  At 18.45, she made her goodbye rounds to each department, taking any last-minute notes for tomorrow's meeting then made her way to Dred's.

She parked in the small lot next to Stephanie's car. She expected to see Stephanie sitting in her car browsing her phone or napping but her car was empty. She unbuckled and looked around. Oh, she's been here before. She's visited that laundromat across the street once. The pizza parlor next door has a great karaoke bar in the back. She turned her attention to Dred's. It's a converted house, though calling it a house is generous. It's about the size of two sheds and in one of the windows is a pink neon sign blinking _Find Fortune Here_. She should Google reviews before entering but whatever. She texted Stephanie, _i'm guessing you're inside so i'll go in too_

She climbed the brick stairs to the front door and was about to enter when she read another sign, a small sheet of paper lit with fairy lights. It read _Please knock before entering_. She knocked and waited. A moment later a velvet rope fell in front of her making her jump. She looked up to see where it came from and found another sign taped to the ceiling of the front porch. It read _Pull the rope_. She grimaced. She should really leave. Her phone buzzed with a text from Stephanie _Great! See you soon!_

She checked around her feet for signs of a trap door and when she was satisfied that she wasn't about to fall into a pit of snakes, she pulled the velvet rope. The front door rolled up like a curtain. Ebba hadn't noticed a second floor. Where did the front door roll up to? She was still tugging on the velvet rope when it zipped out her hands and disappeared into the ceiling. She squeaked but steeling herself she walked into the house. He's a magician, she thought, just a magician. "Steph? Steph?" She had taken two steps in when the front door rolled back down landing with a gentle tap. "For the love of god-. Steph? Steph? Hello? Mr. Dred, sir? I'm not usually the white girl in a horror movie but-."

As Ebba's eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that she'd stepped into a great room. At the far end of the room was a fireplace from which Ebba could feel the heat of the fire blazing and roaring. On either side of the fireplace were shelves filled with jars and busts and cages and vases. "Wow," was all she could say. She was about to step in for a closer inspection of the shelves when a sheet of paper smacked her in the face. She swiped it and it fell to the ground. When she regained her composure she peered at the paper, now wrinkled and torn. It read _Please take your shoes off. No shoes on the carpet._ She looked down, kicking it aside.  In the center of the great room lay a tannish shag rug and in the middle of that was a variety of furniture one might find in any normal living room.

"You know," she said to the house, "in most houses, when the host wants their guests to remove their shoes, they at least start with introductions!" She slipped off her shoes thankful she was wearing socks. "Steph? Hello? Where are you?" To her right, a light turned on.  It came from a chandelier underneath which was a round dining table at which sat Stephanie who was laughing at something someone said though Ebba couldn't see that someone. "Steph!"

Stephanie spun in her seat, her hair circling her head like a hula hoop. "Ebs! There you are!" She invited Ebba to sit down but she couldn't move, not forward at least. She wanted to slip her shoes back on and run. "Ebs, you all right?" Stephanie asked. "Would you like some tea?"

Ebba shook her head and looked across the table to who she assumed was Dred.  He did not look like what a fortune-teller should look like but then she hadn't anticipated the front door rolling up after pulling a velvet rope. What happened to ringing the doorbell?  Dred wore a red t-shirt with white polka dots tucked into simple blue jeans, a brown leather belt cinching everything together. She guessed him to be twenty-two years old but something about the way he looked at her felt older. She pulled her shoulders back and stretched her neck to feel taller though Dred still had a few inches on her. He held a hand out to Ebba and said, "Please, sit, Miss. Dagdag. I'm sorry the entrance didn't entertain you but, I promise, there's no more show." He gestured to the seat next to Stephanie where a steaming cup of tea and a plate of biscuits appeared. "Well, now there's no more show."

Ebba glanced at Stephanie and slowly made her way to her assigned seat. She sipped from her teacup and nibbled at a biscuit to be polite. "Hello," she waved to Dred who was still standing.

He flourished his arms. "Thank you for coming, Miss. Dagdag." He turned to Stephanie, a smile growing on his face. "Miss. Ramirez was  just  telling me she had to coerce you into coming."

"'Coerce' is a strong word." She looked at the teacup. "I  was pressured  and I felt obligated to come but I will admit I'm curious."

Dred sat down, his hands folded on the table. "Indeed you are. Now, would you prefer Miss. Ramirez to stay in the room or can she wait for you in the other room? The room you were  just  in. I ask only because there are some revelations I'm about to share with you that are private. Personal."

Stephanie patted Ebba's arm. "Of course she's good without me! I'll  just  grab a book off the shelf- don't mind me." Stephanie scooted back in her seat and browsed the shelves.  Ebba hadn't noticed before the floor-to-ceiling shelves lining the room, each shelf filled two rows deep with books.  Stephanie picked one, winked at Ebba, and shuffled off to the other room, nestling into one of the oversized armchairs. Ebba glanced at her watch but did a double-take. It still reads 8.00 PM. She lifted the watch to her ear,  maybe it ran out of battery, but Dred smiled.

"No, Miss. Dagdag, your wristwatch is fine. Battery's still full. In here, time stops."

"Cool." Was it though? "So, have we met before?"

"No, but we have a mutual friend."

"You mean, Steph?"

Dred shook his head, his brown curls bouncing. "Miss. Dagdag, what do you think of your future?"

"My future?  Relatively  bright."

"In that you are correct," his fingers drummed the table. "Very bright but it could dim if you're not careful."

"Well, isn't that the case for everyone? One wrong decision could dim anyone's future? Is this a trick?"

Dred laughed like an amused kindergarten teacher would laugh at a precocious student. "No, you see, in the upcoming years, you will continue in your success. Customers from far and wide will send rave reviews to your regional office thus resulting in a promotion. Another promotion, congratulations! But-!" He slammed the table with his fist. "But! But a man with the initials M.P. will threaten that promotion."

"M.P.?"

"You cannot trust anything M.P. says. He has already used his charms against you."

"Oh." Ebba waited for Dred to continue but when he did not she prodded, "So. Is that all?"

"You don't have questions for me?"

"Oh, right. I guess, uh, okay, lemme think." She took a larger bite of the biscuit she nibbled on, finished that, then proceeded to eat the rest of the biscuits. She could only think of one question and, after a sip of tea to clear her throat, she asked, "Mr. Dred, do I have to take this promotion? I like where I am and the only promotion I could get after this is an office job at the regional office which is in London. Where I just was."

Dred smiled again, the corners of his blue eyes wrinkling with delight. "No, no. When the promotion comes, you don't have to take it." He lowered his gaze to his lap. "This is a prediction, Miss. Dagdag, not a sentence." With a wave of his hand, he refilled the plate with biscuits fresh from the oven. "That was an excellent question." He frowned. "One I wish our mutual friend had asked eons ago." Dred sank into his chair, one hand rubbing his chin, the other hanging at his side, playing an invisible piano. He looked back up at Ebba. "Have you any other questions?"

"Why did you need to tell me about my continued success? If it's just a simple prediction, one that would've happened without my knowledge anyway, why go to the trouble of having my friends pressure me to visit you? Who the hell's our mutual friend?"

Dred replied, "Because you're a little more practical than your friends."

"You're talking about Steph, Jaliyah, and Becca?"

He continued, "And you're far more grounded than our mutual friend. If I had them tell you instead of telling you myself that would be interpreting an interpretation. By inviting you here, I am giving you a chance to interpret the original source."

"You."

"Me."

Ebba took another biscuit from the plate but instead of eating it, she took it apart crumb by crumb. She was going to repeat her question about the identity of their mutual friend but that was annoyingly futile. But at least based on his last answer, her friends and their mutual friend are not the same person. Their mutual friend is someone she has not yet named. A mutual friend who's lived eons, apparently. She could believe anything now- she's in a house that's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside- what's left to disbelieve? After a few more minutes of silence and crumbling biscuits, she asked, "Who are you?" 

Dred sat up in his seat, his hands bridging his chin. "Someone who might have to pay the price again."

"Th-th-that means nothing to me. What?"

"Sorry, sorry! Used to drama," he hemmed. He stood again from his seat, arms flourishing and answered, "Miss. Dagdag, I am Mordred. My full name is Mordred. I am a Druid and Knight of Camelot." Then the house spun and Ebba was in her car, a plate of biscuits in the passenger seat with a paper that read _See you next week! Same time, same place!_


End file.
